What do Yoruba costumes, Cindy Sherman, and giant sculptural sunglasses have in common? They’re all part of a new installation put together by fashion designer Duro Olowu (he doesn’t use the term curated). It all started with his mother.
It’s been called another Versailles. Or the Disneyland of the future. It’s Inhotim——-a huge art complex and botanical park in southeastern Brazil. Privately owned, it’s got international art star installations and 12,000 varieties of palm trees. Miguel Rio Branco has his own pavilion there.
Rio Branco is a Brazilian photographer whose work, though stunning, is usually too seamy for me. Among his favorite subjects are prostitutes —————not exactly Disney. He describes the essence of his work this way: “… being in paradise, yet having something absolutely terrible taking place.”
Say you’re planning a show of antique children’s costumes. You know, Little Red Riding Hood. Martha Washington. A Maltese water carrier. But you want to jazz it up a little———–after all, this is 2013. Who you gonna call?
I think of Banksy as the Zorro of the art world. Masked? Nobody knows his real identity–reportedly, not even his parents, who think he’s a high-end decorator.
After dark, he might turn up anywhere. He dazzles with his swordplay–okay, make that spray paint play. Then he vanishes into the night.
His art leans heavily on stencilled figures and silhouettes, gritty content, in-your-face messages. EVen if some of it later is sold for six figures. Still, this is illegal street art.
Machismo in reverse. In the early ’60’s, Lil Picard had been using women’s cosmetics as primary materials in her collages and assemblages. In 1968, she exhibited the burnt neckties at a show called “Destruction in Art.”
Critic Lucy Lippard wrote, ” “In 1967, using (perhaps not coincidentally) her husband’s real silk neckties, Picard began to burn things.” The ties were shown a few years later at Lajeski Gallery in New York with an added performance element: Picard used matches and irons to singe gallery-goers’ neckties.
A cabaret performer in Berlin before World War II. An artist in New York scavenging the streets for collage materials in the 1940’s. A journalist covering the art scene in New York in the fifties. A pioneering performance artist in early ’60’s “happenings” (think Cafe a Go Go). An habitue of Warhol’s factory who appeared in his films and wrote for Interview.
You’d think someone with this resume would be famous. But you’ve probably never heard of Lil Picard. I know I hadn’t.
Jim Hodges does a lot with flowers. Also mirrors, granite, scarves, and, oh yeah, paper. The results are magical and exhilarating. Also fragile and sorrowful. In many of his works, a collage aesthetic is at play.
Paper was the first material that fascinated him. He talked about it during his 2009 exhibition Love, Etc. at the Centre Pompidou in Paris in an interview with Christophe Ecoffet. Hodges liked “the flexibility of paper, how paper can tear, and be unfolded and folded.” In one work, he collaged hearts cut from painted newspaper.